


birthday boy

by zogratiscest



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Pampering, Shotacon, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Underage Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: finral is twelve today, and langris has a special present just for him.
Relationships: Finral Roulacase/Langris Vaude
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	birthday boy

“You’re going to spoil him if you keep this up, you know,” Mimosa tells him that Saturday.

Today is Finral’s twelfth birthday party. The first birthday he has living with just Langris instead of with their parents, and therefore his most important birthday to date. Langris remembers all of his birthdays of course, because even knee-deep in university, he always made sure he came back home for Finral’s birthday party every year.

But this one is the most important one, because Langris finally has the chance to spoil him.

“I don’t think I’m spoiling him at all,” Langris argues, one elbow propped on the edge of their table, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. “This is what normal parents do.”

“Your parents weren’t normal?” Mimosa’s voice is curious, inviting but not probing. She never asks him invasive questions, always leaving them open in case he wants to say more, but Langris never talks about his parents to anyone. Not after taking Finral away.

Langris’s smile is small and bitter, and he picks up his fork to stab it into the piece of birthday cake he’s been neglecting for the last few minutes. “Something like that.”

It took months of saving to comfortably afford renting out this building for the day, a combination arcade and restaurant. It’s both the perfect place to throw a birthday party for a kid and one of Finral’s favorite places in the world, and so Langris made sure they had it all to themselves until closing. His current position hardly affords him the money to do so, but he used to work two jobs through university and had both of them while he was finishing his degree. And a bit after that, too. Few schools want to gamble on someone whose certification is still warm out of the printer.

He lives in a small apartment just big enough for him and Finral, so he had money to save, money to spare for when the day came.  _ Worth it, _ he thinks, watching Finral dart between games with Vanessa and Asta in tow, laughing so loudly Langris can hear him clearly.

“He looks like he’s enjoying himself,” Mimosa offers, and Langris watches her sit up, carefully searching the massive, sprawling arcade before she sits comfortably again. Looking for her own little brother before she could be calm again.

“That’s all I really want,” Langris says. “For him to enjoy just one day out of the year.”

Not that Finral is a miserable child, or anything. But he used to be. His smiles barely reached his bright violet eyes and Langris had to learn the hard way he would never ask for anything he wanted unless Langris coaxed him into being honest. It took time and work to get him to open up his heart again after their parents’ cruelty forced him to close himself in and hide. To harden his heart, or spend every night crying himself to sleep.

Langris knows more now than he did then. He stays on top of Finral, just in case.

“You’re doing a good job,” Mimosa says, and Langris nods because he believes her. “He was a lot quieter when you first enrolled him in school. I know that, because Kirsch told me.”

“He’s quite the gossip for his age, isn’t he?” Langris teases, and Mimosa laughs because it’s true, and because Langris never means anything cruel by it. “He was bullied a lot in his old school. And besides, it’s just easier to go to school closer to where we live.”

Mimosa hums, and Langris slants a glance at her just in time to see her cut a piece of her own cake, stabbing her fork into the soft chocolate interior. “He’s a friendly boy.”

“That’s what I figured out when he told me how many invitations I was sending out.” Langris hadn’t believed him at first, but he still faithfully filled out every single one and sent Finral off to school with a stack so thick that Langris tied them all up with a ribbon just in case. “I didn’t expect everyone to RSVP, but they actually did. I’m shocked.”

“You shouldn’t be. A nice afternoon to let the kids play and free cake? Who’s going to turn that down?” The voice comes from the booth behind him and is Acier Silva. Langris knows her well, because her youngest daughter Noelle is one of Finral’s closer friends.

Which is saying a lot, considering his entire class is in the building right now.

“It’s the first time I’ve been in charge of planning his birthday, so I’m glad it’s all working out.” Langris has to turn sideways and sit back in his booth to comfortably talk to Acier, but he likes her. Out of all the parents he’s spoken to, she’s one of the kindest.

“Well, as far as my opinion matters, you’re doing a wonderful job.” Acier’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles at him. “He’s having a lot of fun. All the kids are.”

“It’s a nice place, too,” Mimosa says, and Langris has to agree with her. The building’s clean and well-lit, the massive windows along the walls letting in plenty of natural light. Nothing too dark, which is all he needs. Kids bumping into each other and getting hurt because none of them can see, which would make for a hell of a memory to carry with him.

“Even Nozel’s having fun,” Acier says, and she points to where the eldest Silva sibling is currently, determinedly playing skee ball with a laser-like focus. There are five other kids grouped around him, all of them holding their breath while they watch him. “I’m glad you didn’t mind me bringing him along. He and Noelle don’t get along with their other siblings.”

Langris doesn’t ask. He knows better than to dig around in someone else’s business. “He’s very polite and well-spoken for someone his age. I’ve heard how the older students talk.”

Acier laughs and Mimosa chuckles into her cake, and they watch the kids play. Langris knows almost all of them from how Finral talks about them after school, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he catches Langris up on the day he had. The ones Finral is closest to have come over to the apartment to play, usually sprawled out in front of the television with video game controllers in hand or playing behind the complex, out in the grass.

As if Langris would ever mind. All he wants is for Finral to be well and truly  _ happy. _

The birthday boy comes zigzagging out of the arcade a while later, hopping up into the booth with Langris. Flushed cheeks, glittering eyes, arcade tickets sticking out of his pocket, and a smile so wide it could rival the dying sun outside. Langris’s heart beats a little faster.  _ Not in public. Not where other people can see you, idiot. _

“Nii-san, I want more cake,” Finral singsongs, and Langris cuts him another piece without even thinking about it. Spoil his appetite for dinner? As if Langris cares. It’s his  _ birthday. _ “Ice cream, too, please. Vanilla this time. Don’t you get bored watching us play?”

“You know boring adults, we’re just sitting around talking while you play.” Langris watches Finral unfold a few napkins to lay across his lap before reaching for his fork.

He looks a little too long, a little too closely, and reaches under the table to adjust the napkins, tuck them around Finral’s legs before they can slide off. Through the cheap napkins, he can feel the heat of his brother’s thighs, skin left bare by the shorts he dressed himself in this morning. Shorts, because they’re in the end of spring, when all of the days are hinting at the sweltering heat of the summer soon to come.

Summer. Langris’s undoing, along with Finral’s cute fucking shorts.

“Did you play in places like this when you were my age?” Finral asks him around a mouthful of cake, and the way he licks frosting off of his lips is… Distracting.

“Mm, yes. Not this  _ exact _ one, but ones like it.” Langris probably would have loved this place growing up, but now he’s getting more from just watching Finral enjoy himself than he ever did before. It says a lot about the person he’s become, for better or for worse. “Are you having fun? It looks like you’ve collected a lot of tickets from the games.”

Finral’s eyes sparkle brightly and he nods, turning to point to the prize counter on the opposite side of the room, close to the exit. “I have! I’ve been trying to get enough tickets for one of the stuffed animals. They’re the most expensive ones up there.”

A cheer from across the room has both of them turning to see that it’s Nozel and his little section of spectators all jumping up and down for him. Whatever he did, he must have won.

“I’m sure you’ll get enough,” Langris tells him, brushing his fingers through his brother’s flyaway hair. It’s so soft, ruffled from where he’s been playing with the other kids. “Your presents are all loaded into the car, so you don’t have to worry about those.”

“It’s good we live on the first floor,” Finral says, and this time it’s a bite of ice cream he shoves into his mouth. Langris’s pants are uncomfortably tight as he eyes the smear of white cream on his brother’s bottom lip. “Carrying it all upstairs would be really hard.”

Langris can only imagine. They’d been lucky to get the apartment, in more ways than one. “We’ll get it all inside as soon as we get back. Do you want to pick up dinner on the way home? Or I can make you something. It’s your birthday so you get to choose.”

“We can get something,” Finral says, and Langris is glad. It’s been a long day. “I want chicken nuggets, can we get chicken nuggets? But I don’t want fries with them.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Langris reassures him, and Finral beams up at him.

He does spoil Finral, and he knows that. Finral had presents just from him that he opened this morning after breakfast, and Langris has another, smaller birthday cake stashed in his refrigerator so he and Finral can share it tomorrow just between the two of them. When they get home and haul all of Finral’s presents into the apartment to put away, Finral will probably sit up late with him, because he’s allowed to stay up late on weekends.

They should watch some movies before he gets too tired and has to be carried off to bed.

_ You shouldn’t still be carrying him, _ Langris tells himself, but it’s a moot point.

Finral finishes his cake and ice cream, and twists around in the booth, napkins fluttering to the ground as he throws his arms around Langris’s neck. “Thank you, nii-san!”   


“What’s this for?” Langris asks, as if he hasn’t already wrapped Finral up in his arms in turn, as if he wouldn’t pull Finral into his  _ lap _ if the two of them were alone.

“This is the best birthday ever.” And without warning, Finral kisses him on the cheek— hard, wet, and a bit  _ sticky _ — and darts back off with the other kids without another word.

Acier and Mimosa both get a laugh at his expense, Acier stretching her arm over the back of the booth to pat Langris on the back while he wipes the ice cream and spit off of his cheek with Finral’s abandoned napkins. “He really is just the sweetest kid, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Langris agrees. And he always had been, no matter what their parents did to him.

By the time closing comes, Finral is short ten tickets that Nozel fronts him without a word so he can get the prize he wants. Langris shoots the boy a thankful smile over Finral’s head, biting back a smile at the way Nozel just blushes and turns away from Finral’s overwhelming gratitude. The other parents and older siblings had been kind enough to help Langris get everything cleaned up in time, so they all leave together, filing out of the doors in small groups, the kids all chattering amongst themselves about the day they’d had.

Langris thanks everyone from coming until he’s exhausted from speaking, one hand held tightly in Finral’s while his brother clings to his prize with the other. Most people his age wouldn’t expect to be on friendly speaking terms with the parents of their brother’s friends, but Langris is all that Finral has. He was prepared for this from day one.

It’s after he makes sure Finral is in the car and buckled up for the drive to get dinner and then head home that a familiar face appears in the growing darkness. Nacht Faust is one of the fathers of Finral’s very best friend, Asta, so Langris knows him very well.

“If the weather’s nice next weekend, Yami’s talking about wanting to grill out,” he says, and Langris nods patiently as he leans against the side of his car. “You and Finral are invited, of course. The grill is new and Yami’s been absolutely unbearable about it.”

Langris believes that. “We’d love to come. If nothing comes up, we’ll be there.”

“I’ll let Yami know.” Nacht waves toward the car, and Langris glances back to see Finral leaning against the window, smiling and waving. “Asta had a lot of fun today, and he’ll sleep like the dead tonight, so I’ll be able to sleep in tomorrow. You’re a lifesaver, Langris.”

“Oh believe me, I’m looking forward to sleeping in, too.” They both laugh, and Langris bids him farewell before slipping into the car. It really has been a hell of a long day.

Langris buys Finral extra chicken nuggets since he doesn’t want fries, and they get home without any incidents. Finral talks the entire way, chattering about his day, about the games he played, both arms now folded around the ludicrously huge stuffed  _ creature _ sitting on his lap. Once home, Langris sends him inside with the food and drinks so he can start eating, swearing up and down he can carry the presents by himself.

There are a lot of them, but Finral needs to eat, and it’s just easier for Langris to handle everything on his own, get it inside and into Finral’s room where he can put it all up himself.

The bedroom is neat and tidy of course, because Finral is a good boy. There are at least a dozen new video games that Langris sets on the shelf designated just for them, and he can definitely foresee the next few weekends revolving around going through these titles with various friends. Whatever makes him happy, Langris hardly minds.

He leaves everything else on Finral’s desk to let him put away himself, then finally sits down at the table to eat with him. The stuffed  _ thing _ takes up a kitchen chair by itself.

“Can we watch movies before bed?” Finral asks, and Langris nods. “Do I get to pick? I should get to pick because it’s still my birthday until midnight, and then you can pick.”

Langris ruffles Finral’s hair, then pets the strands back out of his eyes. Here, in the privacy of their apartment, he can let his touches linger. Feel the way Finral presses up into his hand like a needy cat looking for attention. “You can pick all the movies.”

“Nii-san is the best,” Finral says, and then crams a chicken nugget into his mouth.

“You need to take a shower before we watch movies, though,” Langris says, and Finral pouts at him, because of course he does. “Don’t look at me like that. I took a shower this morning so you could have all the hot water to yourself. What do you  _ do _ in there?”

“I’m getting  _ clean, _ ” Finral protests, because of course he does.

“It’s all this hair of yours, I bet it takes ages to shampoo and condition it.” Langris combs his fingers through Finral’s hair again, so soft under his fingers. He’s been taking care of it more than Finral has, admittedly, but he has a hard time not doing things for Finral.

He should have been there more, but wasn’t, so it’s easy to… To do  _ too much _ now.

Finral bats his hand away and Langris goes back to his food, and then he shoos Finral off to the bathroom while he cleans up the trash and turns on the television. Nothing of note is on the news and he checks his phone on the way to his bedroom so he can change into something more comfortable. The nicer clothes he’d worn today, the button-down and the nice slacks, all go into the laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom. Every apartment in this complex has its own washer-dryer unit, and for that Langris is thankful.

His pajamas are just a pair of boxers and a comfortable t-shirt, sometimes actual pajama pants during the winter when the nights get cold. But it’s almost summer.

And Finral will spend all summer in shorts, and Langris might well die by August.

There are a few messages from the people they’d seen today, and he texts Nacht and Mimosa back before putting his phone on the charger for the night. Mimosa is the student counselor at the same school Langris works for, which is how the two of them met each other in the first place. It’s probably a miracle she wasn’t able to just look at him and see his sins written out on his face for the world to read, but… Maybe she can’t, because Langris gave up feeling bad for what he and Finral do together a long time ago.

He’s relaxing on the couch with a book in hand when the familiar sound of footsteps have him looking up to see Finral emerging from the hallway. Hair brushed, in a pair of pajamas— The worst pajamas he owns, the ones that have shorts instead of pants. So it’s like that.

“I’m ready, nii-san,” Finral singsongs, and Langris glances at the windows, making sure he pulled the curtains tight before he drops his book on the table, place already marked.

Finral picks an animated film the two of them haven’t seen before, and Langris doesn’t even bother to pretend things aren’t like how they are now. Leans back against the arm of the couch and holds his arms out, letting Finral climb into his lap and cuddle up against his chest. Maybe some people would think this is normal, think the best of him, think that he’s just holding Finral close because the boy spent most of his life without being loved the way a child his age should have been. Because their parents have always been the worst.

But it isn’t because of that. Langris tried to tell himself that was what it was in the very beginning, but he knows better now. He doesn’t bother to pretend anymore.

“I love you. You know that?” He combs his fingers through Finral’s hair, brushing it back off of his forehead so he can plant a kiss there, against warm soft skin. “So much, Finral.”

Bright violet eyes glance up at him in the semi-darkness of the living room and Finral smiles, his lips coming to touch Langris’s cheek just as they had at his party. But his lips hover there for moments longer. Too long to be innocent. “I love you the most.”

“Do you now?” Finral is warm in his arms, skin still rosy in places from the shower, and the way he squirms when Langris pets a hand down the side of his face makes his shorts ride up. His thighs look so soft, and Langris doesn’t have to resist the urge to touch one here, fingers digging into the soft skin. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“I just know.” Finral’s cheeks are pink now, and he bites his bottom lip, soft and plump, when Langris’s thumb brushes along bare skin..

When he carried Finral out of their parents’ house, he’d been scrawny and underfed like no one could be bothered to ensure he had three meals a day, that a growing boy had enough to eat. Not that Langris was surprised. By the end, the extent of their cruelty toward Finral numbed him to surprise, just not to disgust and disappointment. It just meant even more time spent taking care of him, ensuring he ate to gain back the weight he needed.

Langris likes him more like this, anyway. Likes the way his flesh gives when Langris grips a little too tight, but never tight enough to leave marks. He won’t hurt Finral.

“I want something else for my birthday,” Finral says, and Langris raises an eyebrow at him, watching him bite his lip again. It reddens under his teeth. “I want a kiss, nii-san.”

“You don’t have to ask for that,” Langris reminds him, pulling Finral closer to him. Close enough that all he has to do is dip his head so he can bring their mouths together.

He was his brother’s first kiss. It was half-accident then, both of them exhausted after a long day not unlike this one, and Finral was so  _ hurt _ . Bullied by kids in his old school, downtrodden by their parents, left with no one but Langris to lean on. He’d been crying, so upset, aching on such a bone-deep level that Langris just… Didn’t know what else to do to make his brother stop crying. And he wanted to kiss him for so, so long.

It isn’t an accident now. And it hasn’t really been an accident since that moment.

Finral’s lips are sweetly soft and warm under his, moving slowly but surely because Langris has taught his brother how to kiss. His mouth is smaller and it’s easy for Langris to overwhelm him, but he takes his time. Kisses Finral with a building intensity that has the boy gasping against his lips, hands fisting in the front of his shirt to cling to him. The muscles under his hand tense and relax rhythmically when Finral squirms.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” He cups Finral’s face in his hands, kissing his mouth, his nose, his forehead, his cheeks. Finral’s face is burning under his lips.

“I hope so,” Finral mumbles. He’s heavy against Langris’s chest. Relaxed. “Nii-san?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” Langris kisses him again, because they’re alone. Because he can.

“Can I have another present?” Finral shifts on his lap and Langris knows without having to ask what his brother is requesting from him. He knows, because they’ve had a few awkward moments in the past. But Finral has only ever watched. Langris won’t let him touch.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Langris teases him, kissing the whine off of his lips. It’s better than before, when Finral wouldn’t ask him for anything. “But you are a little bit older now…”

He shouldn’t, and he knows that. But  _ all _ of this is a  _ shouldn’t _ and Langris finds himself far beyond caring as he kisses his little brother again. Leaning over him, now, so he can tumble him back on the couch, against all the pillows propped against the arm of it. And even though Langris is on the shorter side, it’s still so easy to loom over Finral like this, tuck his much smaller body in against Langris’s larger one. Letting him feel the heat of his body without forcing him to take the weight of it, because it would squash him.

“What are we going to—” Finral gasps when Langris kisses him on the neck, hand smoothing up his thigh to grip it tightly. He  _ shouldn’t _ but it’s hard not to want to do this.

Just a taste. Because Finral isn’t old enough  _ yet, _ but he will be one day.

“Do you trust me?” And when Finral nods up at him, all jerky motions and trembling limbs, Langris kisses him again. Licks into his mouth, the taste sharp and minty. Good little boy even brushed his teeth after his shower without being asked.

His hands slide up Finral’s thighs to his little shorts, sliding under them to stroke where the elastic of his briefs bites into that hollow above plump softness. It’s enough to make his cock throb. Half-hard already just from holding Finral and kissing him, because Langris can’t help himself where Finral is concerned. He’d been sweet and perfect and lovely all day, so affectionate and adorable and Langris has never loved anyone like he loves Finral.

And he won’t. Ever. Finral is all that matters to him now.

“Can I take these off?” He presses the backs of his hands against the shorts and Finral nods up at him, looking at Langris through half-closed eyes. His cheeks are red now, his lips flushed and damp from Langris’s kisses. “And your underwear? I want to see you.”

“Okay, nii-san.” Finral closes his eyes, and his cheeks seem to burn a darker shade now.

Langris eases soft cotton down to Finral’s knees, hands brushing the bottom of his shirt before pushing it up around his waist. He’d kept his hands to himself for so long but now touches his brother’s bare skin freely, marveling at the softness under his hands. His fingers dig into Finral’s belly a little too hard and the boy squeaks and giggles under him, and his dick nearly  _ aches _ at how cute Finral is without even trying.

“That’s a good boy.  _ Such _ a good boy, aren’t you?” Langris would tickle him more, but he thinks a laughing, flushed and panting Finral would erode what little self-control he has left. And Finral isn’t ready for that. Baby steps until he’s ready for everything.

Finral covers his face with his hands. He peeks between his fingers, but Langris can hear the edge of a smile in his words. “Am I?” he asks. “I try to be good for you.”

“You’re always so good for me.” Langris kisses his hands, his fingers, his knuckles, and Finral splays his hands just far enough apart for Langris to steal one last kiss before sliding down. Because it’s Finral’s birthday, and he asked kindly for another present.

He kisses his belly, soft and warm. Pudgy now, where he hadn’t been before. Where he’d been too thin until Langris fed him, three square meals a day and letting him sneak sweets like he shouldn’t. Spoiling him like he should be spoiled, and now there’s a healthy glow to his skin. Flushed and warm under Langris’s lips, his tongue, and Finral squeaks again at that. But it’s worth it. It’s so worth it to listen to the noises Finral makes for him.

“I love you. I love you so much, Finral, more than anyone else.” And Langris crosses one of the lines he’d drawn for himself the first night he kissed his little brother.

He touches Finral’s cock, curling his fingers around it. Skin soft and hot under his hand, still small enough to easily grip. Small enough to easily suck if he wants to, but just touching it is enough to make Finral gasp. His hips jolt off the couch, thrusting him up into Langris’s grip all by accident, a startled little sound slipping past his lips.  _ Gorgeous. _

“Is this all right?” He rubs his thumb up along the underside and Finral keens for him, hands twisting in his pajama shirt, straining the buttons. “Grab a pillow or you’ll rip that.”

Finral reaches under him, fingers digging into the decorative throw pillow. “It’s good.”

“Do you touch yourself like this sometimes?” Langris is sure he must have, but he hasn’t asked before. Not like he asks now, breathing hot over Finral’s cock while he strokes the needy flesh. When Finral nods shakily, Langris smiles. “What do you think about?”

He knows he makes it difficult for Finral to answer. Every stroke of his fingers has Finral whining and wriggling on the couch, moisture already beading at the tip. Langris licks it away without much of a thought and Finral  _ spasms _ under him. “I th-think about you.”

_ Oh, _ that’s better than anything Langris could have asked for. “I think about you, too.”

Far more than he should. Finral’s lips bruised with kisses, gasping his name or just nii-san over and over again, spread wide on his cock— But not now, later,  _ later. _ When he’s older and can take it, but Langris can do this with him now. He can take this much.

“Can you hold still for me?” Finral couldn’t choke him if he wanted to, but Langris can just imagine having to explain some bruise on his face on Monday morning. And he can’t very well say that his brother’s zealousness in bed is what caused it.

Finral bites his lip, teeth sinking into plush pink before he nods, and all the muscles in his legs go taut. Langris kisses his belly again, the inside of one soft thigh, and replaces the hand he has still wrapped around Finral’s cock with the wet warmth of his mouth instead.

He tastes clean and soft and Langris closes his eyes, reveling in the sensation as he curls his tongue around his brother’s cock. Finral squeals and his legs twitch under Langris’s palms, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t so much as  _ jerk _ while Langris slowly licks his swollen flesh, then wraps his lips tight around the shaft. So hot, so needy, and he can finally do this. At least this much, and with his hands. Fuck, he could even  _ edge _ Finral if he wants.

And he imagines that, Finral flushed and whining in his arms, babbling beyond the point of coherent speech. Hot and hard and straining under Langris’s hand but not able to reach the point of completion no matter how badly he wants it and needs it and craves it.

“Nii-san,” Finral whines, and Langris  _ sucks, _ bobbing his head slowly with the motion just to listen to the way Finral wails thin and high through his teeth. “Please, I… I’m going to…”

Of course he is. He has no stamina and is just a little boy, and Langris didn’t think he’d last very long with someone else touching him for the first time anyway.  _ Let me make you come. _

A hand slips into his hair and pulls lightly, like Finral is trying to pull him off, but Langris catches his wrist. Tugs Finral’s hand out of his hair so he can hold it himself, lacing their fingers together. His little brother, his precious little brother that he loves so  _ much. _

“Langris—” But it’s all Finral gets out before he comes, gasping rhythmically, his hips jolting just a little, just a touch. The muscles of his thigh flex and tighten and Langris swallows easily, because Finral is young and his spend is almost nothing.

Well worth it for the sound of his name on his brother’s kiss-swollen lips.

“Did that feel good?” Langris lets Finral’s softening cock slip from his mouth and kisses the vulnerable exposed belly, the soft skin just above his groin. It makes Finral shiver.

“Y-yes,” Finral murmurs, still trying to catch his breath, flushed and panting. So pretty it makes Langris want to kiss him again. “Nii-san should… Do you want to, too?”

“Are you asking me if I want to come?” Langris teases him, watching his brother whine and hide behind his hands again. Face tucked away in embarrassment even though he’s half-naked, skin still damp from Langris’s mouth. “Maybe I do. Is that all right?”

Shaky, jerky nods; Finral peeks between his fingers and Langris is gentle as he rolls his brother over onto his side, lies behind him on the couch and then hugs the boy against his chest. The bare curve of Finral’s ass presses against his cock like this, and it would be as easy as just rutting against him until he ruined his boxers. Instead, he shoves them down enough to free his cock, letting Finral feel the swollen, needy heat of it against his skin.

“It won’t hurt,” Langris tells him, and Finral looks back at him, eyes shadowed by his lashes, half-closed and sleepy. “Press your legs together for me, will you?”

Finral does because he’s a good boy and Langris presses his cock between plump thighs, kissing Finral’s neck again as he thrusts between his legs. Up against the softness of his cock until Finral is hard again, keening softly, hands scrabbling for something to hold onto. Langris gives him an arm, wrapping it around his chest to keep him still and close, and Finral clings to him like a lifeline while Langris fucks the soft cradle of his thighs.

“Such a good boy,” he whispers, and Finral moans softly, head lolling against the pillows. “My good little brother. Does it feel good, too? I hope it feels good for you.”

“Nii-san.” The word is a sigh and Langris revels in it, petting Finral’s side with his free hand, the slim curve of a hip, the plush fairness of his skin tempting marks he’s too young to carry right now. “It feels so good, I… Does it… Does it feel good to you?”

What an innocent question. Langris nibbles his ear and Finral giggles. The grip of his thighs tightens minutely. “It feels  _ amazing, _ sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

Finral will be exhausted if he comes again, Langris can already tell, but he cups his palm over the swollen little cock again and kisses Finral’s neck. Whispers sweet words in his ear, all of them true, about how much he loves him, how pretty he is, because Finral is startling in his beauty. It was the beginning of the end for Langris, after all. It was his undoing.

Those bright violet eyes, those soft lips saying his name, those fucking  _ shorts. _

The grip on his cock is firm, the skin there warm from friction and the shower and Finral pants softly, eyes closed while Langris palms his cock. His palm is slippering with pre-come and Finral whines softly, bucking up against it, thighs shifting against Langris’s dick like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he knows  _ how, _ but it’s entirely by accident.

Langris kisses the back of his neck, the curve of a shoulder, and pulls Finral back against him as tight as he can. Hand cupped over the warmth of his belly, the plump heat of his little cock. “Come for me one more time. Come for your big brother, all right?”

There isn’t another option. Between the touch of his hand and the hot rut of his cock, Finral trembles and moans and gasps in his arms, wetting his fingers. And Langris just holds him close, body hot and tight and groaning as he streaks Finral’s stomach with white. And he probably shouldn’t have done that. The boy just had a shower, after all.

The small head falls against his shoulder, Finral panting softly as he looks back at Langris. “You made a mess,” he says matter-of-factly before he yawns. Precious,  _ precious _ boy.

“I’ll clean it up,” Langris promises him. “Come on, you need to go to the bathroom now.”

Finral is tired, but he lets Langris scoop him up and carry him to the bathroom to get him properly clean. There’s semen striped across his belly and thighs, and Langris wets down a washcloth with hot water and wipes all of it away to leave his skin glistening and clean once more. All Finral can do is yawn, swaying slightly where he sits on the toilet lid, lashes fanning his cheeks as his eyes keep trying to flutter all the way shut.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” Langris asks, and Finral nods and reaches for him again. A silent request to be carried that Langris  _ shouldn’t _ agree to but always does.

Anything to make Finral happy, of course. Anything to spoil him rotten.

The bed is more than big enough for two, not that it needs to be. Finral scoots up close to him as soon as Langris settles the duvet over them both, pressing his face against the front of Langris’s throat. He likes to be close, likes to be held, and it works out because Langris can never quite keep his hands to himself when it comes to his little brother.

He smoothes a hand down his back and kisses the top of his head, nuzzling down into the soft strands. In the morning, he’ll brush Finral’s hair until it’s gleaming and smooth, and Finral will pretend he doesn’t love every second of it. “I love you, Finral. I hope you enjoyed your birthday. Maybe I’ll let you have cake for breakfast.”

Finral giggles and kisses Langris’s throat, and Langris shivers in pleasure. “I love you, too, nii-san. It was the best birthday ever.”

Satisfied, Langris gathers his little brother up in his arms and lets sleep take him.

It’s going to be difficult to outdo himself next year.

**Author's Note:**

> i can only post things a day late it's fine


End file.
